


Babytime

by stele3



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 15:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18137696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stele3/pseuds/stele3
Summary: Quickie based on this prompt: http://probably-voldemort.tumblr.com/post/182898433471/my-uncle-brought-his-one-night-stand-to-meet-me-in'my uncle brought his one night stand to meet me in the hospital when i was borni guess they’d just gotten back to his house when he got the call from my dad and they detoured to the hospital before i would assume going back to his placebut like imagine your otp“i know we just met like half an hour ago and we definitely came here to hook up but like my brother just had a baby so would you mind putting this on pause for a bit?  you can come meet her too she’s probably a really cute baby”'





	Babytime

Eliot just picked up a little twink in a club–the adorable-yet-inexperienced kind that he specializes in: cute enough to fantasize about dating, but not smart enough to figure out how to ask for Eliot’s number the right way–when Margo calls from the hospital. 

“It’s my baby,” Eliot says, looking around for his pants.

The twink–Callum? Some weird name like that–hands over Eliot’s pants. “Oh, are you–wait–oh God–please tell me I didn’t just have sex with a guy whose girlfriend is giving birth _right now_.”

Eliot fixes him with a glare as he yanks on his skinny jeans. “First off, a handjob in the cab does not count as _sex_ worth mentioning. Secondly, no need for seppuku, sweetheart, she’s my best friend. She wanted a kid so we turkey-basted her up, but she’s not due for another two weeks. Anyways. You’ll just have to take my word for how fantastic a deflowering this could have been.”

“De–I’m not a virgin! Hey!”

Eliot is already swanning out of the twink’s frankly-gross apartment–there are clearly depression dishes in the sink, ew, he’ll have to buy Margo a bouquet for rescuing him from what could have wound up being sad sack lay number 504. Shit. 1am on a Saturday means the Uber prices are ridiculous and the wait is prohibitive. Twisting his fingers into Nehim’s Duplication, Eliot creates seventeen more ride requests from this block. He’ll grab whoever shows up here first and–

And his phone is suddenly flying out of his hand into the hand of. Colm? Kenton? 

“I have a car,” says the suddenly-more-interesting twink, holding up his keys. The fingers of his other hands are still glowing slightly, holding Eliot’s phone in midair.

“Hmm. I don’t think I know you from Brakebills.”

“Hedgewitch,” the twink says, his chin coming up a bit. He floats Eliot’s phone back to him with…what is an _acceptable_ amount of control, considering that’s an iPhone 12 plucked from a few years in the future _._ “You used an illusion spell right in front of me on the dance floor after you spilled your drink on yourself. Do you even remember that?” he adds in a frankly-unnecessarily-judgmental tone of voice after Eliot looks down and _tch_ s at the sight of the stain on his shoulder. 

“I might have done a line of coke in the bathroom right before I stumbled into your tiny clutches. Now. Lead on, Quincy.”

“Quentin,” the hedgetwink says, not giving ground as Eliot approaches. “My name is Quentin.”

Hmm. He really does have nice eyelashes. 

“All right, _Q_ ,” Eliot says, smiling as Quentin rolls his eyes. “If you don’t get me to the hospital in ten minutes, flat, then you and I will both face the wrath of Margo, and no magic of Brakebills or hedgewitchery will save us.”


End file.
